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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24280525">My Love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiigi/pseuds/tiigi'>tiigi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Henry/Bill [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Homophobic Language, Jealousy, M/M, Minor Violence, could be seen as dub con kissing maybe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:14:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,910</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24280525</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiigi/pseuds/tiigi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Denbrough can flirt with whoever the fuck he likes, Henry doesn’t have him on a leash, but that also means that Henry is entitled to beat the shit out of anyone he likes, and right now, that’s this guy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Henry Bowers/Bill Denbrough</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Henry/Bill [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564909</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>128</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>My Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Henry doesn’t know him, the guy that’s flirting with Bill. He’s been watching them for the past five minutes, leaning against the row of lockers like they don’t give a fuck about the other people around them. It isn’t like Henry is morally opposed to that - he does it himself all the time, and usually harasses people who give him shit for it - but for some reason, seeing Bill do it has him angry. He’d never admit it, but it probably has less to do the way they’re standing and more to do with the guy that Bill is talking to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry wishes he recognised him. He doesn’t have a particularly memorable face but it’s still unsettling, because Henry has been here repeating grades for long enough to recognise almost everybody. Now, here’s this stranger leaning against Bill’s locker, talking to Bill, making him laugh. Why the fuck is Denbrough actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>responding </span>
  </em>
  <span>to this? Why hasn’t he fucked off to class like the rest of his nerdy friends? Why does Henry have to be the one to put a stop to this faggot flirting session?</span>
</p><p>“Jesus,” Patrick sidles up next to him and crosses his arms. “Stare any longer you’ll probably come. What’s your problem?”</p><p>“Shut the fuck up,” Henry rolls his eyes. He doesn’t have a problem. Denbrough can flirt with whoever the fuck he likes, Henry doesn’t have him on a leash, but that also means that Henry is entitled to beat the shit out of anyone he likes, and right now, that’s this guy.</p><p>“Touchy,” Patrick runs a finger down Henry’s bare arm. Henry shakes him off. “Stalking Denbrough again, are you? I don’t know why you don’t just fuck him already. He’s such a pussy, you probably wouldn’t even have to hold him down.”</p><p>“I’m not a faggot,” Henry snaps, even though he knows, really, that’s not what he should be taking issue with. Whatever, he can deal with Patrick later but this whole Denbrough situation won’t last forever, and he needs to act fast.</p><p>“Sure,” Patrick replies, smirking. “Me neither.” But Henry has already kicked away from the wall and he’s heading over to where Bill is standing before he even knows what he’s going to do. </p><p>
  <span>Bill sees him coming before he gets there. He looks away hurriedly, eyes wide and worried. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Good, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Henry thinks madly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Let him worry. He </span>
  </em>
  <span>should </span>
  <em>
    <span>be worried. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He doesn’t slow down until he’s standing right behind the stranger, close enough that Henry could just reach out and wrap his hands around the guy’s neck, squeeze until the life drains out of him. He wouldn’t, obviously, because not even his father could get him off for killing a kid in school, but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>could, </span>
  </em>
  <span>if he wanted to.</span>
</p><p>He does want to. He keeps his hands at his sides.</p><p>“‘Sup, faggots,” he says. His eyes meet Bill’s, only for a few seconds before he has to look away, overcome by rage and jealousy. “You ladies having a nice conversation?”</p><p>
  <span>Henry doesn’t know why he feels like this. Well, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and even though he doesn’t want to admit it he has to acknowledge it. He just doesn’t know why all his feelings are seemingly heightened. After that night in the park, he can’t seem to control himself. He wants Bill more than ever, wants to see Bill wearing his clothes, wearing no clothes at all, sprawled out on Henry’s bed with a bloody nose and a face screwed up in pleasure.</span>
</p><p>He doesn’t want anyone else flirting with Bill. He knows he doesn’t have fucking ownership or anything like that but Henry still feels so possessive that it drives him mad. He wants to tear this guy’s fucking head off.</p><p>“G-Go away, Henry,” Bill mutters, but he won’t meet Henry’s gaze anymore. Instead he stares at the floor and scuffs the toe of his sneakers. Usually, Henry would have a problem with anyone that talked to him like that– especially in front of other people. Now, he has a bigger problem with the person saying nothing at all.</p><p>“What about you?” The guy turns to face him for the first time, and all Henry can think about is breaking his nose. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”</p><p>
  <span>He looks between Henry and Bill, as though he’s weighing up his options and deciding which one is best. He must </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>be trying to fuck Bill because he sets his jaw and glares at Henry, angry and and aggressive.</span>
</p><p>“I think you’re the one that should–” Henry doesn’t even let him finish. He grabs the kid by his collar and slams him into the wall. The guy’s head knocks against the edge of a locker and he groans, eyes screwed shut, mouth hanging open on a pained shout. Henry holds him in place with an arm across his neck. Red creeps in around the edges of his vision and he barely registers Bill trying to pull him off.</p><p>
  <span>“Stop it!” Bill cries, beginning to attract attention. “B-Bowers, fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>Henry yanks himself away and catches Bill’s hand in his. It feels so fragile, the tiny bones of his fingers grinding together as Henry squeezes. He could probably break them if he wanted to. Does he want to? Henry doesn’t even know. He’s angry and he wants Bill to hurt but more than that he wants Bill to smile at him the way he smiled at the guy just now, wants to make Bill laugh the way the other boy did. He lets go of Bill’s hand and takes a few shuddering steps backwards. Things will be easier to process if he gets the fuck out of here. He can’t clear his head while he’s staring at Bill’s face. </p><p>He disappears into the nearest bathroom. It’s mercifully empty and Henry takes the opportunity to catch his breath. Maybe he shouldn’t have done that, or at least shouldn’t have gotten so obviously angry. Patrick knows about his permanent boner for Bill Denbrough and that’s already too many people for Henry’s liking. Did that whole episode reinforce everyone’s opinion of him as an asshole bully, or did he actually just end up drawing more attention to his pathetic fucking crush? Henry doesn’t know, and he’s not sure he wants to find out.</p><p>“What the f-fuck is wrong with you?” Henry hears Bill’s voice before he even registers the door opening and closing. He groans and rests his forehead against the cool tiled wall, desperate to just be left alone. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he isn’t.</p><p>“Fuck off, Denbrough,” he says, but he doesn’t sound threatening. If anything, he just sounds tired.</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Bill hisses, getting closer and shoving Henry’s shoulder. Henry turns on him so quickly that Bill takes a few shuffling steps back, looking appropriately cowed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Good, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Henry thinks, despite his sinking heart. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s good that he’s scared of me. He should be.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>“Is this about the other n-night?” Bill continues, voice pitched low and conspiratorial, as though they’re sharing a secret. Henry kind of likes that, even if he refuses to show it. “Because I can g-give you the jacket b-back, if that’s what you want. If it m-means that fucking much to you. But you can’t just f-fucking punch my friends.”</p><p>“Oh, he’s a friend,” Henry scoffs. He wants to scream that this isn’t about his stupid fucking jacket. He wants to punch Denbrough in the face. He wants to kiss him, to push him up against the wall and take him.</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Bill says, eyebrows furrowed in anger. “He’s my </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend, </span>
  </em>
  <span>we were talking about a project we’re doing. Jesus, Henry.”</span>
</p><p>“Sure,” Henry sneers. “No, I’m sure. It definitely didn’t look like you were choking on his dick or anything. I didn’t know you were a cocksucker, Denbrough. I thought you were after that redhead slut?”</p><p>
  <span>“Shut the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck </span>
  </em>
  <span>up!” Bill shoves Henry again, and this time Henry doesn’t let him get away with it. He grabs Bill’s wrist before he can pull his arm back and steps closer, forcing Bill back into the wall. </span>
</p><p>“Don’t fucking touch me,” Henry hisses, face just inches from Bill’s. Bill’s eyes are wide and he’s breathing heavily, probably scared now that Henry is so close and so much bigger. Maybe he didn’t consider the danger he was putting himself in when he came charging into the bathroom after Henry all on his own.</p><p>Henry likes how much power he has over Bill right now. </p><p>“Let me go,” Bill breathes, eyes not leaving Henry’s. At least now Henry has his fucking attention.</p><p>“No,” Henry says.</p><p>“Henry, it w-wasn’t anything like that, okay? I p-promise.” He tries to wriggle his arm out of Henry’s grip so Henry wraps his other hand around his neck instead, squeezing just enough to be a threat but not enough to actually hurt him. </p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>promise?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Henry scoffs again. “You think it means anything to me? You think I give a shit about who you fuck?”</span>
</p><p>There’s a pause, in which Henry realises he’s hard. He’s got Denbrough pressed up against the bathroom wall just like he wanted, one hand wrapped around his neck, the other around his wrist, and he’s hard. Bill isn’t using the other hand to fight Henry off. In fact, he isn’t doing anything to fight Henry off. He’s just standing there, eyes wide and chest heaving, watching as Henry holds him tightly in place. </p><p>Then, in a voice that Henry barely hears, he says, “Do you?”</p><p>“Do I what?”</p><p>“Give a shit?” Bill is so close and he looks so scared and beautiful. Henry doesn’t know how much longer he can control himself. With Bill standing before him like an offering, why should he even have to?</p><p>Henry surges forward before he can overthink it, presses his lips to Bill’s and licks inside his mouth. Bill gasps into Henry’s mouth, eyes open wide and surprised and Henry can’t bear to stop and think about what that expression means. Bill whines suddenly, shocked and pained, and Henry realises he’s been digging his nails into Bill’s neck. He takes his hand away quickly, ashamed, turned on, desperate for more.</p><p>“Oh,” Bill breathes, still watching Henry as he pulls away with those big eyes and trembling lips, wet with Henry’s spit. “Oh.”</p><p>The longing that had risen up inside him so quickly before is replaced with nausea. Henry thinks he might be sick if he stays here any longer, looking at Bill, the boy he just kissed. He wants to do more and he hates that he does, hates that Bill can make him feel like this, hates that he can never seem to control himself around him.</p><p>He wants to hit Bill. He wants to hit him now just as much as he wanted to kiss him a few moments ago. He can’t let himself. He doesn’t know why, but he just can’t let himself hurt Bill.</p><p>Henry punches the wall next to Bill’s head with a frustrated scream; Bill flinches but doesn’t move away, even though he’s free now. Henry doesn’t want to hang around to see him leave, see him look at Henry like Henry is some kind of monster. He turns and heads for the door, heart in his throat, but before he leaves he has to say one more thing in lieu of a goodbye.</p><p>“Keep the jacket,” he says, voice rough and thick with suppressed emotion. Then he leaves.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for this prompt!! I really enjoyed writing it so hopefully you enjoyed reading it :D</p></blockquote></div></div>
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